


Snowflakes on Eyelashes

by I_bite_my_thumb_at_thee



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Geraskier, M/M, Snow, can be read as platonic or romantic, winter in oxenfurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:02:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27878061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_bite_my_thumb_at_thee/pseuds/I_bite_my_thumb_at_thee
Summary: Winter in Oxenfurt sucks. It's all grey skies and muddy rain and cold. The only thing making it enjoyable this year is that Geralt is there with Jaskier. Oh, and that for some unknown reason it is snowing, something that hadn't happened in years.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 18
Kudos: 57





	Snowflakes on Eyelashes

**Author's Note:**

> Whenever I want to post something on AO3 I forget that I need to give it a title so yeah, it's not the best but oh well.
> 
> Yesterday I was sad because surely it would't snow today. And then this morning the unexpected happened and I spent my morning frolicking in the snow and the afternoon writing this fic. Hope you'll enjoy it <3

Jaskier loved Oxenfurt. He really did. The colourful houses, the pubs, the carefree people. It was a wonderful place to come back to. If only the winters weren’t so shit here. The colours were dulled by the perpetual rainclouds and so were the smiles of the people hurrying through the city with their hoods deep in their faces, desperate to get somewhere warm and dry. 

Most days the morning sun didn’t manage to break through the clouds either, so what was even the point in opening the curtains?

“Jaskier.” The rough voice was the only thing worth waking up for these days. Inviting Geralt to stay with him for the winter this year might have been the best decision Jaskier has ever made. Right after following the witcher all across the continent. “Time to get up.”

Geralt softly threated his fingers through Jaskier’s hair and Jaskier nuzzled into the touch like a cat dozing in a sunbeam. The promise of spending time with Geralt was almost enough to get Jaskier out of bed. If it weren’t for the fact that it was still cold and dark and miserable outside. 

“I don’t want to,” he mumbled, burying his face into his pillow. 

Geralt snorted and Jaskier threw a mock-glare in his direction, when Geralt left his side to pull open the curtains. 

“Sorry to disappoint,” he said, sounding nowhere close to sorry. “But you are the one who decided to teach here in the winter.”

Jaskier groaned. “It’s not my fault that they decided to make me do morning lectures.” He drew the blanked up to his chin.

Jaskier thought the bemused hum was all the answer he would get, but after a brief pause Geralt said “I thought you said it doesn’t snow in Oxenfurt.” 

“It doesn’t,” he said. “It’s just rainy and cold and gross.” 

“Then why is it snowing?”

In the blink of an eye, Jaskier was wide awake. 

“You’re messing with me.” There was no way it was snowing. In all the years he has come here, it had never once snowed. “I swear, if you are just saying that to get me out of bed, I will write a song about you so scandalous that your brothers will never let you hear the end of it.”

Despite his grumbling he threw the blanket off. He cringed when his feet hit the cold floor, but he ignored it and made his way to the window where Geralt was standing, still looking at him with a slightly amused expression. 

Jaskier gasped. It was true. Geralt hadn’t just said it to fuck with him. Granted, there were only a few snowflakes, barely worth mentioning, but it was snow. For a moment, Jaskier’s face was completely blank. Then he broke into a grin, unable to supress the tiny squeal that left him. 

“Jaskier, what –“

He ignored Geralt, running to his wardrobe and getting dressed quicker than he had even when some townsfolk decided to chase them out in the early morning hours on their travels. 

Geralt blinked at him, when Jaskier threw a scarf at him and grabbed his hand. 

“Come on, we don’t have any time to lose!” He beamed, dragging Geralt with him. “I still have an hour left before my lecture starts and I am not wasting it sitting inside.” 

\--

Jaskier’s hand slipped out of Geralt’s as he ran a few steps ahead. Geralt’s lips twitched, when he saw Jaskier almost shaking with the effort it probably took him not to twirl through the snow. Instead the bard’s hands were fidgeting and he was brimming with unknown energy. The snowfall had picked up since they had come into the park adjoining the academy and Jaskier’s hair was covered in white. 

Jaskier turned around and Geralt’s heart skipped a beat. He had seen Jaskier excited over flowers, he had seen him skip barefoot through a meadow. But rarely had he seen Jaskier beam at him, like he was planning on making the sun jealous. 

“It’s _snowing_ , Geralt,” he whispered as if he still couldn’t quite grasp it, his voice shaking with thinly veiled excitement that would bubble over at any moment. 

“Hm.” 

Geralt smiled. The frostwind biting into his skin was no match against the warm that blossomed in his chest, when Jaskier couldn’t contain the laugh any longer. It was a short sound, over far too quickly, but it sounded like sunshine and home. A smile that big shouldn’t be able to fit on anyone’s face, but on Jaskier it looked like it was not big enough for him, like he felt too much to put it into a single smile. 

Calm settled over Geralt, as he watched Jaskier close his eyes, just taking in the feeling of the snowflakes coming to rest on his face and melting there. He looked beautiful, with tiny crystals getting caught in his eyelashes and his cheeks red from the cold. A soft melody left Jaskier’s lips. Not a fully written song. Geralt would have known if Jaskier had been composing anything. He had listened to him strumming his lute idly for weeks, but no new tune had come of it. Now though, Jaskier sang again, no full-fledged song, but the result of the happiness he couldn’t express with his words or his smile. It was nowhere close to being as crafty and masterly composed as his other songs. It was perfect. 

For what felt like an eternity and not enough time, Geralt watched Jaskier enjoy the snow, listened to his heart pick up speed every once in a while, whenever the realisation that it was actually snowing hit him anew. 

Despite how much Jaskier always complains during late autumn nights about freezing unless Geralt held him close, he didn’t seem to be bothered by the cold now, ignoring his bare hands turning red in order to catch snowflakes with them. 

Carefully, Geralt slipped one of his hands into Jaskier’s. 

When Jaskier’s shining eyes turned to him, he shrugged. 

“Wouldn’t want your hands to freeze. If you get too cold, you won’t be able to play the lute.”

Jaskier’s smile brightened impossibly. “You would miss my playing?”

Geralt’s huffed, his lips twitching mischievously. “I don’t want to listen to you complaining all day.” He tilted his head to the side, looking at Jaskier shaking his head in mock indignation. “But yes. I would miss your playing.”

For a moment, Jaskier hesitated, holding Geralt’s gaze with a soft expression. Then he stood on his tiptoes and brushed his cold lips against Geralt’s cheek. 

“Thank you, dear.” 

Geralt’s heart hammered in his chest. Instead of answering, he squeezed Jaskier’s hand gently. 

A shiver shook Jaskier and he hunched his shoulders up. 

“Maybe next time you should try to contain your excitement for long enough to remember to bring gloves.”

Jaskier’s lips curled up. “Why would I need gloves when I have you? I do so love holding your hand.” If Geralt hadn’t been looking at Jaskier closely enough to memorize every bit of his happiness, he would have missed the slight dimming of his smile. “And I don’t regret not bringing gloves. The time I would have wasted searching for them is better spent enjoying the snow with you. I could stay out here with you the whole day and it wouldn’t be long enough.”

“Tell that to your students when you are late for your own lecture.”

Jaskier cursed. “Damn it. I forgot about that.” He furrowed his brows, staring off in the direction of the academy. “Do you think I can just skip the class with the excuse that it is snowing?”

Geralt huffed. “It is _your_ class, Jaskier. I don’t think the lecturer gets to skip.” When Jaskier’s nose scrunched up adorably, he added “Don’t worry. It will be winter for quite a while. I’m sure you’ll get many more chances to enjoy the snow. Just you wait, three more weeks of this and you will get sick of all the snow and cold.”

Jaskier gasped. “I would never!” He looked away. “And it’s not like I would get the chance to anyway. Need I remind you that this is Oxenfurt? The place of grey winterskies and muddy rain? It’s a wonder it is snowing today at all.” 

“In Kaer Morhen it snows the whole winter through.” Geralt hesitated, risking a quick glance at Jaskier, begging that he wasn’t being too forward. Jaskier’s face betrayed no emotion, but his breath hitched and his grip on Geralt’s hands tightened the tiniest bit. Geralt closed his eyes, praying he didn’t misread this. “You…there are no parks to stroll around in. And it would probably be too cold for you to be outside very long, but…” He swallowed, when Jaskier turned his head back to him, a hesitant smile on his face and Geralt’s heart dared to hope. “But we have a library and you could sit on a windowsill watching the snow fall…” He trailed off, unsure of what else to say without sounding foolish.

Jaskier picked up his thoughts. “And in the evening I could curl up next to the fireplace with a warm blanket around my shoulders and my dearest friend by my side?”

The sudden lump that formed in Geralt’s throat at the thought of holding Jaskier close in the Kaer Morhen library, maybe pressing a kiss into his hair while his friend rested his head on Geralt’s shoulder, made it impossible to speak, so instead he just nodded.

Jaskier smiled again, not with the excitement of being in the snow, but with a softness and something else Geralt couldn’t quite name shining in his eyes. He lifted Geralt’s hand and pressed a quick kiss on the back of it. 

“I would love to come with you next year.” 

“I would love to have you there.”

\-- 

The snow didn’t last that day. Far too quickly, it turned back into rain and muddied the streets. Jaskier went back to his rooms, where Geralt had already made a fire in the hearth. When he saw Jaskier enter, Geralt looked up from where he sat on the floor and lifted the blanket that laid over his shoulders invitingly. Without hesitation, Jaskier snuggled against him, resting his head on his shoulder and smiling as the warmth of the flames danced across his face. Winter in Oxenfurt was miserable. But he had a feeling, this time around, it would be the most wonderful time he could have.

**Author's Note:**

> You must have some review for me. Three words or less ;)


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